-=O=-***-=O=-

She expected to find Roarke there, huddled with McNab over her office unit, working some of his magic. When she found McNab alone, she was surprised, irked, and disappointed. A glance at their adjoining doors showed the red locked light engaged.

Damn if she'd knock.

"I can't get you more than I've got, Lieutenant," McNab told her. "I cleaned up the image, and it's crystal now. But all you see's a dead guy riding in a car."

She picked up the hard copy he'd printed out for her, studied Mills. "Go through the discs, following this segment. I want you to freeze and enhance every car, van, scooter, and fucking jet bike that came through that level from this point until the area was blocked off."

"You want every vehicle that crossed eastbound on the GW on level two for over an hour?"

She shot him a cool look. "That was my order, Detective. Do you have a problem understanding it?"

"No. No, sir." But he allowed himself one weighty sigh.

She went to her 'link, contacted Dr. Mira's office, and set up a conference for the next day with the department's top profiler. After a moment's hesitation, she put through a transmission to her commander.

"Sir, I've requested that Captain Feeney and Detective McNab assist in the electronics work as regards my current case."

"You're cleared to enlist EDD or any assistance you deem appropriate or necessary. That's standard, Lieutenant, and per your judgment. What is the current status on the Mills homicide?"

"I would prefer to report that in person, sir, when I have more data to offer. In the meantime, I'd like to have Detective Martinez, from the One twenty-eight, put under surveillance."

"Is it your opinion that Detective Martinez is connected to these deaths?"

"I have no data supporting that, Commander. But it is my opinion that Martinez, if not connected, may be a target. I intend to interview her more extensively, but in the meantime, I have some concerns."

"Very well, Lieutenant. I'll see to it."

"Commander, are you aware of any investigation involving Kohli, Mills, and/or Martinez currently being run through IAB?"

His eyes went to slits. "I am not. Are you aware of any such investigation?"

"I am not... but I have concerns."

"So noted. I want a report, by noon. The media's sniffed this out, and they're clamoring. Two cops dead is news."

"Yes, sir."

She put the next call through to Nadine Furst from Channel 75, and caught the reporter at home. "Dallas, great minds. I just got an interesting lead from a source. Who's killing cops?"

"My office..." Eve checked her wrist unit, calculated time. "Ten-thirty, sharp." She would finish with Feeney, zip down to Lewis's hearing, and back to Central. "You get what I've got to give, before any scheduled press conference, in a one-on-one."

"And for this, I have to kill who?"

"We won't take it quite that far. I want a story planted ... leaked, let's say. From an unnamed police source. You scare easy, Nadine?"

"Hey, I dated a dentist. Nothing scares me."

"Well, you're going to want to cover your pretty ass anyway. The leak's going to involve Max Ricker."

"Jesus Christ, Dallas. Let's get married. What have you got on him? Is it confirmed? What's that I smell? Hey, I think it's an Emmy, or no, no, it's a Pulitzer."

"Slow down. Ten-thirty, sharp, Nadine. And if I hear anything about this before then, deal's off, and I fry your ass."

"My pretty ass," Nadine reminded her. "I'll be there. Bells on."

She broke the connection, mulled over what she was about to do, then turned to see both Peabody and McNab staring at her. "Problem?"

"No, sir, working away here. I've already got the first ten minutes run."

"Work faster."

"Maybe if I had some breakfast."

"You've been here about eight hours. There's probably nothing left to eat." She looked toward Roarke's door again. Tempted, very tempted. Then was saved from making the decision as Feeney came in.

"Got the breakdown." He laid discs on her desk, took a chair, stretched out his legs. "Diagnostics, computer analysis. Ran it through up, down, and sideways. The programming wasn't jumped. I'll swear to that."

"Was Mills's code used?" Eve demanded.

"No. If it had been, I'd've figured whoever killed him got the code from him first, one way or the other." Feeney rattled in his pocket and began to nibble mournfully from a bag of nuts. "It was an emergency clearance code -- an old one, but it still works on that unit. It's one Maintenance used to go by to transport or run scans on disabled units. They've got a new system the past few years, but the older units still respond to this one. Thing is, he had to have a master to tie it in. He didn't bypass."

"Mills's master was still in his pocket."

"Yeah." Feeney sighed. "Yeah, you said. Anyway, the killer went right through the stages. I can follow it like a map."

She nodded because it fit, and the dread in her stomach was ignored. On Feeney's face she read her own thoughts and her own conflict.

"Okay, odds are we're looking for a cop, retired or active."

Feeney crunched down on an almond. "Hell."

"Both victims knew their killer and trusted him or considered him no particular threat." She moved behind her desk, brought up a wall screen. "Kohli," she began, drawing a diagram. "To Mills. Mills to Martinez. Roth connects to all three. At the center of it is Max Ricker. Who else connects?" As an answer, she brought up a list of the names of the task force from Illegals who worked on Ricker's case. "We run all these cops."

She paused long enough to scan faces. "Inside and out. I want it done without sending up any flags. Concentrate on financials. Both Kohli and Mills had suspicious funds. Follow the money."

"Sucks," McNab commented. His eyes were cool and flat as he studied the names. "Lieutenant, if these two were dirty, taking money from Ricker or one of his sources, why take them out? Why would another cop on the take go after them?"

"You think there's honor among thieves, McNab?"

"No ... well, sort of. I mean what would be the point?"

"Self-protection, covering your ass. Guilt, remorse." She lifted a shoulder. "Or it could be as simple as Ricker paying one more to cut down the field. Thirty pieces of silver," she mused. "Ricker's really fond of silver. You may not find the killer on this list. But you may find the next target. Thirty pieces of silver," she said again. "A symbol of betrayal. Maybe whoever killed these men wanted us to know they were wrong cops. We need to find out why. You start by finding out how many more are wrong."

"Shit's going to hit the fan when this comes out," Feeney told her. "Some aren't going to be happy you tossed mud on the badge."

"There's already blood on it. I've got to get to Central, then over to court. We'd better work out of here today. I'll get another computer brought in so you can network."

The lock light was still on the adjoining door. She wasn't about to humiliate herself by knocking on it in front of her associates. Instead, she went out, walked down the hall and, swallowing pride, knocked from there.

Roarke opened it himself, briefcase in hand. "Lieutenant. I was just heading out."

"Yeah, well, me, too. My team's going to set up here today. It'd be helpful if they had another computer unit or two."

"Summerset will get them whatever they need."

"Yeah, good. Well..."

He touched her arm, turning her so that they walked toward the steps together. "Was there something else?"

"It's really distracting trying to work and knowing you're still torqued at me."

"I imagine so. What would you like me to do about it?"

It was said so pleasantly, she wanted to kick him. "I said I was sorry. Damn it."

"So you did. How rude of me to still be ... what was it? Torqued."

"You're better at this than I am," she said grimly. "We're not on even ground."

"Life has very little even ground." But he couldn't hold out against her misery and stopped halfway down the stairs. "I love you, Eve. Nothing changes that, nothing could. But Christ, you piss me off."

The wash of relief at hearing him say he loved her warred with irritation that she should be slapped, again, for doing what she'd thought best. "Look, I just didn't want you involved in -- "

"Ah." He tapped a finger on her lips to silence her. "There it is. There's quite a world of trouble with that single statement. As I doubt you have time, and know I don't, to explore that world right at the moment, why don't you, between your quests for justice today, give it some thought."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a moron."

He kissed her, which was something, but did so lightly before continuing down the steps. "Go to work, Eve. We'll talk about this later."

"How come he's in charge?" she muttered. She heard him say something to Summerset, something quick and careless before the door opened. Closed.

She started down, replaying the scene in her head, with all the sharp, pithy, and clever things she would have said if she'd had a few minutes to think about it.

"Lieutenant." Summerset stood at the base of the stairs, holding out her jacket. It was something he never did. "I'll see to it that your associates have the equipment they require."

"Yeah, great. Fine."

"Lieutenant."

She shoved her arms into the jacket, snarled at him. "What, goddamn it?"

He didn't so much as blink. "Regarding your actions of last evening -- "

"Don't you start on me, hatchet-face." She shoved by him, wrenched open the doors.

"I believe," he continued in the same mild tone, "those actions were quite correct,"

He might as well have stunned her with her own weapon. Her mouth fell open as she looked back at him. "What did you say?"

"I also believe your hearing is unimpaired, and I dislike repeating myself." That said, he walked down the hall and left her staring at him.